


#BLM

by Franki3W



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BLM, Beer, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Protesting, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Franki3W/pseuds/Franki3W
Summary: Dean is unhappy and decided to protest early Sunday morning.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 5





	#BLM

**BLM**

It was early Sunday morning. The bunker was quiet. While you knew Sam left early to go to the library, you had no idea where Dean was. Not that it mattered. It was Sunday and you had peace and quiet for once, granting you the necessary calm to relax for once and finish your book which you never get time for these days.

Walking down the passage, on the way to the kitchen, you heard the chanting coming from the war room. Frowning, you followed the sound until you saw it. Standing in the middle of the room, barefoot and wearing nothing but his jeans, Dean was protesting with a big white sign board around his neck on which the word **#BLM** was written in big black letters. Jumping from one foot to the next, like a bunny on drugs, while chanting ' _BLM, BLM, BLM_ ', he lifted the sign above his head on every second ' _B_ ' and lowered it again. The floor was littered with trash while the trashcan from the kitchen was lying to the one side of the room. You cringed quietly on the inside at the sight before you. You were so not going to clean that up.

"Winchester!" you called out to him. "What is this?" You asked as you held out your hand in front of you, waving about. "You know you are busy protesting inside the bunker, right?"

He lowered the sign board and took a few steps closer to you, eyeing you up and down, careful to not step on the trash he so carefully thrown around him. "Yes, I know. I'm busy protesting against you!" He pointed his finger in your direction, and then proceeded to wipe the supposed sweat from his brow. Pointing at the sign, he said: "My movement's name is _**hashtag B.L.M.**_ "

You rolled your eyes and folded your arms over your chest, tapping your foot on the floor. "Oh for fuck's sake! What on earth is this about?"

"It's about yesterday, Y/N. About what you did, right here in the bunker." He stamped his foot into the ground, pointing down, where after he retreated to his previous place to continue protesting.

You frowned and looked at him, tilting your head to the side, just like Cas used to do.

"Yesterday was Saturday." You said as you tried to figure out what he was getting at.

_After finishing up a hunt, you arrived back at the bunker early Friday morning, worn out and tired. Nobody had any energy to cook food so you all opted for take outs. The boys' eagerly left shortly after you arrived back from your trip, to make their rounds at all the take-out restaurants and even stocked up on other supplies._

_You opted to stay home, not feeling like jumping to the opportunity to go out. Your neck muscles were still stiff and sore of all the digging you had to do while the boys' battled with a nasty, vengeful departed soul._

Dean saw you hesitate and stepped closer again, until he was almost in your face, chanting loudly while dancing and hopping around you in circles.

_It was the first Saturday you were all home together with no immediate hunts or urgent assistance to anyone. Everyone was relaxed, doing their own thing._ Sam too _k it upon himself to restock the pantry and he was in and out all day with supply runs. Dean tuned up Baby and shuffled in his room while you, on the other hand, had laundry duty. Having nothing else to do, you started cleaning up a bit, going from room to room to gather all the empty food containers that were left in the rooms as well as picking up laundry along the way, especially the ones that didn't make it to laundry basket, as per usual. It was a tedious task and if left up to certain people to throw away their own trash or aim to score into the laundry basket, it would never get done. The boys might be awesome hunters but sometimes they were really messy humans, especially Dean. Granted, it's been a tough month, but that was no excuse. You were nobody's maid and from the time you came to stay with the boys, you all lived and hunted together but you were suppose to be a team with equal responsibility in cleaning up in and around the bunker, especially on weekends off._

"It's unacceptable!" He pointed his finger at you, interrupting your thoughts while continuing to dance hop from one foot to the next. "It was a real douchebag move!" He said a bit louder, while continuing to chant ' _BLM_ '.

You couldn't quite put your finger on what he was going on about. Then it dawned on you. You took a stance, feet apart, hands on your hips. "Is this all about the beer I threw out last night?"

_It flashed before your eyes. Stepping out of the shower into your room on Saturday evening, warmly dressed in your PJ's, you found him, sprawled out on your bed, drinking beer and eating left over pizza and off course there were crumbs everywhere and multiple wet spots on your clean duvet and pillow where he's messed beer while excitedly shouting at the action movie he was watching, waving his beer holding hand wildly about._

" _Dean! You're doing it again; you're messing on my bed!" You shouted at him and pissed off you grabbed the beer out of his hands and stormed off towards the bathroom opposite your room. Dean followed you and as if in slow motion, he reached out for the bottle, realizing what you were about to do, but he was too late. You turned the bottle upside down above the sink and watched as the last of the liquid dribbled down the drain all the while ignoring his "NOOOOO!" as it echoed inside the bathroom. When it was empty, you threw the bottle in the trash can and walked past a distraught Dean on his hands and knees, digging for the bottle and throwing you a bitch face._

"Not just any beer. It was the last bottle of Black Label!" He shouted back at you.

"I don't care. I told you, if you mess on my bed again, it will be the last you see of your beer! Obviously you didn't take me seriously the previous time!" You shouted back.

He stepped closer again and pointed at the sign, emphasizing: "But Y/N, **B** LACK **L** ABEL **M** ATTERS in this bunker!"

You looked up to him, being shorter than him you had to put some effort into looking him in the eyes. You've just about had it with him and his messy ways.

"No, Winchester," you growled through clenched teeth while he wavered and stopped hopping. "It stands for **B** ITCHY **L** AZY **M** AN! You take over my bed and mess on it while I just washed my sheets yesterday morning. You don't clean up after yourself and you don't lift a finger to help clean up when others do it for you. When it's your turn to do the laundry, you always find an excuse, when you have to take out the trash you suddenly have research to do. I'm so tired of this. I pull my weight in the hunt; the bare minimum you could do is score into the laundry basket and not next to it; carry your own dishes from your room to the kitchen and when you eat in MY room, DO NOT mess on MY bed! It's time to grow up and grow a pair." You pointed a long finger at him before turning around and storming out. His eyes diverted quickly, looking at his feet, knowing full well you were right, but you stopped just short of the door and looked back, to take another stab at him, pointing to the trash at his feet. "And would you clean that up?!"

You disappear around the corner, leaving the older Winchester speechless, gaping after you.


End file.
